Another Life Lost

Earlier this week in Mumbai, Raj, a 32-year-old chartered accountant, died by suicide after enduring eighteen months of harassment and blackmail over a private video. The police confirmed that two individuals extorted over ₹3 crore from him by threatening to circulate this video. He was made to steal from his company and deplete his personal savings. His sister later revealed that the blackmailers humiliated him repeatedly, questioned his sexuality, and used threats to break him down emotionally. They even forced him to bear the burden of an SUV registered in his name, demanding EMI payments. The mental torture pushed him to a point where he could no longer carry on.

What the news report fails to mention — and what is so often left unsaid — is that the “private video” was of homosexual sex. Raj was not just blackmailed. He was targeted for his sexuality. He wasn’t just defrauded financially. He was hunted emotionally. And despite having made three complaints, the police failed to act.

This is not a new story. It’s an old one, a painful one, and an increasingly familiar one. I have heard it too many times in too many ways. Gay men being blackmailed for being in the closet. For wanting intimacy. For trusting someone. Sometimes it’s the hookup itself. Sometimes it’s someone pretending to be an ally. Sometimes it’s a calculated setup involving the local authorities, with “sting” operations meant to trap and extort. Always it ends in shame, silence, or something worse.

Before Section 377 was read down in 2018, the law was a weapon used to blackmail closeted queer people. After 2018, society simply adapted its weapons. The fear remains. The shame remains. The vulnerability remains. The closet has become a trap — not a refuge. You go into it to feel safe, and someone finds a way to reach in and destroy your life.

Our society demands silence from gay people. Families force their sons into marriages to preserve reputation and lineage. Parents say, “Have a child, and everything will be fine.” They don’t care that someone else — often a woman — is being lied to. They don’t care about the happiness of their own child either, as long as he conforms. The pressure is relentless. And so people remain in the closet. And those in the closet become easy prey.

I have seen my friends suffer. Some have been assaulted. Some emotionally manipulated by men who disappeared after sex, leaving behind guilt and self-hatred. Some took their lives. Loneliness is the most silent killer in the queer community. As we grow older, it intensifies. And when loneliness meets blackmail and social shame, it often ends in tragedy.

I was brave enough — if one can call it that — to have come out at sixteen, with some family support. Not everyone gets that chance. Not everyone is believed. Not everyone is safe.

We keep asking: why do we need Pride marches? This is why. We need Pride because Raj is no longer alive. We need Pride because someone, somewhere, is being threatened tonight for just being who they are. We need Pride because even today, seven years after Section 377 was scrapped, queer people are still being criminalised — not by the law, but by society.

We need authorities to stop being complicit through inaction. We need them to do their job. If a person files three complaints and nothing is done, who is responsible for the outcome?

This has to end. I wish — deeply wish — that every queer person finds the strength to be proud, to live truthfully. But I also understand the fear. The shame isn’t theirs — it belongs to a society that hasn’t learnt how to love its own children for who and what they are.

Until that day comes, we must keep fighting. For visibility. For justice. For those who didn’t survive. For those still too scared to speak. For Raj.

The Nature of Homophobia

We often talk about homophobia as a form of hate directed at queer people. But it’s more than slurs or discrimination—it’s a system. A mindset. A control mechanism. And like all systems of control, it does more than hurt the visible target; it quietly damages everyone.

Here are five insights about homophobia we rarely say out loud—but should.

  1. Homophobia doesn’t just harm queer people—it limits everyone

Most people assume that if you’re straight, homophobia doesn’t touch your life. That’s a lie. Because homophobia is what tells straight men they can’t cry or hold their male friends too long. It’s what forces women to perform femininity in a way that pleases the male gaze. It’s what turns love into a cage of rules. If queerness were allowed to breathe freely, so would everyone else.

Homophobia is the reason intimacy and vulnerability feel dangerous—even for those who claim they’re not affected.

  1. It’s not innate—it’s learned, imposed, and policed

No child is born homophobic. Look at history. Look at indigenous cultures, ancient civilisations, or even pre-colonial societies. Queer relationships were present, accepted, sometimes revered. It was colonialism, religion, and politics that began to weaponise sexuality.

What’s sold as “tradition” is often just trauma dressed up in ritual. The fact that homophobia looks different in different places—and changes over time—tells you everything. It isn’t natural. It’s curated.

  1. The fear of queerness often reveals a fear of the self

There’s a reason some of the loudest anti-LGBTQ+ voices crumble under scandal. Homophobia can be projection. A desperate attempt to silence the parts of ourselves we’re too afraid to face. Society teaches us to repress desire, to hide softness, to punish difference.

So many people fight queerness not because they truly hate it, but because they’re terrified it lives inside them. That’s the quiet tragedy at the heart of this hatred—it’s often self-directed.

  1. ‘Tolerance’ is not kindness—it’s control

“I don’t mind gay people, as long as they don’t shove it in my face.” How many times have we heard that? What they’re really saying is: “You can exist, but only on my terms.” Tolerance is the cousin of condescension. It assumes superiority. It keeps power in the hands of those doing the ‘tolerating.’

Queer people don’t need tolerance. They need equity. They need liberation. Tolerance is a ceiling—acceptance is when you tear the roof off.

  1. Homophobia isn’t about sex. It’s about power

What scares people isn’t just who we love—it’s what our love disrupts. Queer people break the mould. We expose how flimsy the rules are. Patriarchy depends on obedience, on rigid roles, on the illusion of “normal.” Queerness dissolves all that.

This is why homophobia exists: to keep the world in its old shape. Not because queer love is unnatural, but because it is radically, beautifully ungovernable.

To truly understand homophobia is to see it not as a personal failing or an ugly opinion—but as a system designed to control how all of us live, love, and express who we are.

And the more we dismantle it, the more room we create for everyone to breathe.

The Cycle of Extremism

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend that left me thinking deeply about the state of the world. I had shared a disturbing video of two men openly advocating for the subjugation of women, even going so far as to say that women who refuse to conform should be burnt and killed. This was not some obscure, hidden conversation—it was being circulated on social media for anyone to see. Understandably, my friend, along with one of my nieces, was horrified. My niece reacted by saying, “This is a terrible country; we need to leave it.”

But I disagreed. Not because I don’t see the horrors around me, but because I have come to a stark realisation: leaving a country does not change the fundamental issues of humanity.

The Global Right-Wing Surge

In 2013, when the rise of right-wing ideology became evident in my own country, (the Supreme Court had criminalised gay sex) I understood that, as a gay man, I would never enjoy the rights and privileges that straight people take for granted. I contemplated leaving, thinking perhaps another country would offer a more progressive and accepting life.

But then 2014 happened. Then in 2016, Donald Trump’s rise in America signalled the same shift towards conservatism that I had seen at home. Russia had Vladimir Putin, who allegedly sent LGBTQ+ individuals to detention camps for “correction.” Horror stories from those camps surfaced, painting a grim picture of the global state of human rights.

In 2019, J.K. Rowling, a writer I had long admired, shattered my trust when she dismissed the trans movement with her comments about sex being real. And when Trump was re-elected, it became clear that the right-wing resurgence was not a fluke—it was a reflection of the people’s will. The agenda of moral policing, religious revivalism, and historical revisionism was not being imposed from the top down; it was being demanded by the public itself.

It’s Not Just Governments—It’s the People Who Elect Them

The problem isn’t just the leaders in power; it’s the people who vote for them. If there weren’t millions who shared their views, these leaders wouldn’t exist in the first place. The unfortunate reality is that large sections of society believe in patriarchy, misogyny, homophobia, and the rigid moral codes dictated by scripture. They don’t just tolerate these ideas—they actively champion them.

This is why changing countries does nothing to change the underlying problem. Extremist views exist everywhere, manifesting in different forms depending on the cultural and political landscape. The rise of the right in one place will eventually be mirrored by a rise in another.

The Death of Nuanced Thinking

What troubles me most is the lack of nuanced thinking in today’s world. Everything is reduced to binaries: right or wrong, good or evil, us versus them. The idea that one might be wrong, or that another perspective might hold some validity, is almost extinct. Instead, people seek validation for their existing beliefs, reinforcing echo chambers that fuel further division.

Social media only exacerbates this problem. It has become a tool not for discussion, but for ideological warfare. People don’t debate to understand; they argue to win. The absence of self-reflection, of walking in another’s shoes, has led to a society where dehumanisation is normalised.

The Cycle of Extremism

Looking back at history, this cycle is nothing new. There were always people who opposed war, but wars happened anyway. Humanity has never been ruled by collective goodwill—it has always been driven by power, self-interest, and ideological battles.

Right now, we are witnessing a global right-wing surge. But this, too, will change. Eventually, people will grow tired of oppression, and the left will rise again. And then, as history has shown us, the cycle will repeat itself. The tragedy is that in the midst of these power shifts, real people suffer. Some are marginalised, some lose their rights, and some even lose their lives.

Finding Strength in Allies

But amidst all this turmoil, there is one silver lining: times like these reveal who our true allies are. When society is divided, we learn who stands with us and who stands against us. We build our own families—not through blood, but through shared beliefs and values. We find the people who will fight alongside us, and we learn who to keep at a distance.

That, perhaps, is the only positive thing about these dark times.

So no, changing countries will not solve the problem. The issue is not geographical—it is deeply rooted in human nature. The only real way forward is to continue resisting, to keep advocating for a better world, and to never stop fighting for justice. Because while the cycle may continue, so will the fight for what is “right”.